negotiations
by kittytrypsin
Summary: Enterprise is attacked, leaving some crew injured, and deuterium levels disastrously low. The nearest source turns out to hold troubles for a certain engineer...this was meant to come one chapter at a time, but..."oops", complete story again.


DISCLAIMER:-          I don't own them, wish I did, especially a certain engineer…

A/N                             _'italics'_ indicates thoughts.

CHAPTER ONE

"All hands, brace for impact!" 

Captain Archer's voice called over the ship-wide comm. Crewmembers grabbed whatever they were near as Enterprise shuddered and jolted heavily under repeated bombardment. On the bridge, electrical panels exploded in showers of sparks, and acrid smoke filled the air from several fires. Quick-thinking crewmen grabbed fire extinguishers without being asked, and some semblance of normality was achieved. 

Coughing in the smoky atmosphere, Jonathon Archer looked around at his crew and thanked his stars that, even in the heat of battle, they were an excellent bunch. Ok, so there were a few strained faces: young Hoshi Sato looked plain scared stiff, but everyone had maintained their post, doing whatever it took to come through this. They'd had no warning, no chance to polarise the hull plating. An enemy ship had de-cloaked and fired on them. The damage they'd sustained would be considerable.

"Malcolm, can you get a lock on anything?" he shouted at his tactical officer.

Malcolm nodded and punched a few buttons on his console. "Targeting their shields and weapons arrays, sir."

"Fire at will!"

Malcolm fired the phase cannons straight and true to their targets, and as suddenly as it had started, the battle was over. They looked at the ugly, bird-like vessel that had nearly wiped them out of existence. It wasn't Klingon, but vaguely similar.

"Hoshi, open a hail. Ask them what the blazes their problem is!" John used as much restraint as he could. His crew was young, and it wouldn't do any good to lose his temper in front of them. They'd remember this occasion, and at least they should learn from it. So he remained calm.

"No response, sir. Shall I keep trying?"

John was about to confirm that when the ship simply cloaked again, and vanished from their sensors.

"No point, I guess they weren't in the mood for talking." 

Pressing the button on his chair, he addressed the crew again. "The attack appears to be over, people. All decks report injuries and damage, and get started on repairs."

One by one, the reports came in. They'd been very lucky; several hull breaches had occurred, but in unpopulated areas; the starboard nacelles had been badly damaged, but the injuries had been minor.

 John realised he hadn't had a report from engineering, and it wasn't like Trip not to be on the comm., demanding to know what was going on. He suddenly realised, too, that they'd dropped out of warp. Now was definitely not a good time to be caught without warp capability.

"Archer to Engineering…Trip…"

A breathless voice answered his hail. "Crewman Rostov, Captain. We've taken heavy damage here, sir, and there was an explosion. Commander Tucker and Ensign Hunter have been badly hurt, and they've both been taken to sickbay. They didn't look too good…"

John felt the panic rising in his throat. He hated the thought of any of his crew being hurt, but he felt it especially strongly when it was Trip. He and Trip were close friends, stretching back over nearly 10 years. He'd even met Trip's parents, and he looked upon his friend as the younger brother he never had. He'd even chosen Commander Tucker as his Chief Engineer, not just because of their friendship, but also because Commander Charles Tucker III was the best engineer John had ever met. He'd practically built the Warp 5 engine with his bare hands, and tended to be somewhat possessive of it. But only the best was good enough for Starfleet's flagship, Enterprise.

"Ok, Rostov, do what you can and I'll get Lieutenant Hess to report to engineering. I'll be in sickbay."

John threw a glance at T'Pol, and she nodded her understanding as he left the bridge. Once out of the turbolift, he sprinted to the sickbay doors. He suddenly stopped, just before pressing the mechanism to open the doors, afraid of what he would find on the other side. Trying to calm his churning stomach, he entered, and his legs almost buckled when the first thing he spotted was a body, draped by a sheet.

_'Dear God, don't let that be Trip,'_ he silently prayed, and immediately felt guilty. Whoever that was lying there, dead, they had been a valued crewmember, and deserved the same respect as his friend. Dr. Phlox saw the captain approach and addressed him sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, captain. I'm afraid Ensign Hunter's injuries were too great. She died on the way here, and I wasn't able to do anything for her."

John heard him through a haze, aware of what he was saying, but trying to recall details about Ensign Hunter. She had family back home, proud parents, soon-to-be devastated parents! 

"How's Trip?" he asked, hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer.

Phlox led him over to the next biobed, where the commander lay, pale, bruised and unconscious.

"I haven't had a chance to assess his condition yet, what with working on the Ensign. I understand from Crewman Rostov's report that Ensign Hunter took the full force of the blast, and that the commander was standing behind her. That fact, alone, will probably have saved his life."

Phlox tutted over the engineer, checking his patient's pupil reactions and making notes on the padd in his hand.

"I can't tell you anything until the commander has had a full scan, captain. I'll contact you when I have more information."

Phlox indicated to his orderlies to transfer Trip to the scanner. John realised that there was little point in remaining here, when there was plenty to be done elsewhere.

"Ok, keep me informed. I'll be about the ship, assessing the damage."

Phlox merely waved, distractedly, concentrating on his patient.

John made his way to the armoury, only to find that Malcolm was already there.

"Any damage here, Malcolm?"

"Minimal, sir, thank God, we were very lucky. If one of their missiles had ignited in here, well, you don't need me to tell you that we'd be history! How's Commander Tucker and Ensign Hunter?"

"Phlox is running scans on Trip as we speak, but at least he's alive. Hunter wasn't so lucky."

Malcolm looked at the captain's grim face and awkwardly laid his hand on the other's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know her very well, but the commander spoke highly of her, he was very impressed. She was just twenty-four, wasn't she?"

"Yeah," John sighed heavily. "When this crew signed on for an eight day round trip to the Klingon home world, I'm sure very few thought we'd be losing people out here…but I suppose it could have been much worse, we've been very lucky so far. Do what you need to, here, Malcolm, and then head down to engineering. They've taken quite a battering, and with Trip out of action, I want as many people working round the clock as it takes to get this ship fully functional again. In the meantime, I've a call to put through to Starfleet."

  


CHAPTER TWO

John put the call through to Starfleet Command. It wasn't one he was looking forward to. He hated to be the one to have to tell proud parents that their daughter or son wouldn't be coming back home.

Admiral Forrest had received his report and offered to make the call to the Hunters for him, but John wasn't the type to shirk his duties, no matter how painful they were.

Ensign Hunter's parents were tearful and shocked at first, but as they talked about their daughter and listened to the kind words from her captain, they became more composed and grateful. John explained about the attack and the accident in engineering, but he especially emphasized how well Kerry had been doing in her work. He explained that Commander Tucker would have been there to add his personal commendation had he been able to.

John hesitated before raising a difficult point. Enterprise had limited storage space, and had never really been expected to stay in deep space for this long, not without some major refitting. So they weren't equipped to act as a morgue.

"I know this is a difficult time for you, but if you would like your daughter's…remains…brought home, we'll return immediately." John spoke gently. He watched on screen as the Hunters looked at each other, the thoughts unspoken. 

Kerry's father finally spoke for them both. "Captain, our beloved daughter was never more animated, more alive than when in the space programme. She was so excited to have been chosen to serve on Enterprise, and if it's alright with you, we know she'd prefer it if she could stay out there in space…for ever."

LLLLLLL

Having got that most difficult of tasks happily brought to a conclusion, John made his way to engineering, wondering what he'd find. It was a truly depressing sight that greeted him as he walked in, but the crew were working like driven men and women, barely lifting their collective heads to see who the newcomer was. They were totally focussed on getting the mess cleared up, getting Enterprise back to fully working order as soon as humanly possible. It was a mark of how good a leader Commander Tucker was, and also a show of respect for their injured comrades, that they worked like this. 

John spotted Lieutenant Anna Hess in the middle of the chaos. As he approached her, he could see that her face was pale and her eyes red-rimmed. She'd most likely been crying. There was nothing to match the speed at which news travelled around the ship, and already they must have heard of their colleague's death.

"Captain, good to see you sir. Is there any news on the Chief?"

John shook his head. "I've just finished talking to the Hunters…they took it very well, considering. I'm heading back to sickbay now, just thought I'd see things for myself. Have you discovered what happened here?"

"Rostov seems to think a stray shot caused an overload to occur in the warp injectors, creating a chain reaction in the deuterium. Kerry and the commander were quickly at the scene, fighting to contain it, when the casing blew like a cork out of a bottle. They'd both been standing up there on the gantry in front of the warp reactor, and the explosion lifted them clean over the rail, onto the floor below."

John estimated the distance they'd been thrown, about 10 feet, and mentally shivered. If Trip was to live through this, he'd consider himself one very lucky engineer.

Hess continued. "Rostov and Kelly contained the situation by shutting down the reactor, got the fire under control, and someone called sickbay. The rest, you know."

John looked round at the engineering crew, and raised his voice above the noise. 

"People, I want to thank you all for the work you're doing here. The entire crew is indebted to you, and we all share in the loss of Ensign Kerry Hunter. Commander Tucker is in sickbay, alive at least, and I'm sure when he wakens, the first thing he'll want to know is that someone's looking after his precious engine. So I'll be sure to tell him that his entire command is doing a first class job."

JJJJJJJ

"Commander Tucker's injuries are consistent, and quite unique to being caught in an explosion. The body gets stretched, pulled apart, if you like, as it is thrown away from the source of the blast. This accounts for the dislocations of his shoulder and hip. The other injuries of fractured ribs and concussion are as a direct result of his hitting the floor with considerable force. He was very fortunate not to fracture his skull, but he'll have a nasty headache for a few days. I've relocated the dislocations and bound his ribs, but he must be very careful for a few weeks. The ligaments around the dislocations are stretched and weakened, and the joints will be prone to dislocate easily. I would suggest he remains on the inactive list until fully fit." Phlox delivered his medical report in his usual efficient manner, and if John thought it lacked a little human compassion, that didn't detract from the fact that Phlox was an excellent physician.

John knew how well being inactive would go down with the commander, but for now he was just glad to know that his friend wasn't going to die. Phlox couldn't tell when Trip would waken, so they left him to regain consciousness at his own pace.

John looked around the sickbay at the far corner, where Kerry Hunter's lifeless body had been prepared for commitment. She lay composed, serene and almost unmarked, thanks to someone's skill with a bit of makeup and a hairbrush. It had been six hours since the explosion that had claimed her life. During that time, most of her colleagues had filtered past, paying their respects. After they'd visited her, Phlox was pleased to see that they'd stopped by the commander's bed, urging him to waken.

But for now, Trip's only visitors were Captain Archer and Sub-Commander T'Pol. Phlox had called the captain to sickbay when he'd noticed a change in his patient's level of consciousness. He pointed to the monitor.

"You will note the commander's respirations are quickening, and his eyes are moving rapidly. I believe he's ready to rejoin us." Leaning forward, he called into his patient's ear. "Time to waken up now, Commander. Open your eyes!"

Trip's eyes ceased their darting movements as he struggled to obey the command. He felt as if his eyelids were weighted down with lead, but after several attempts, he got them to remain open. At first his eyes were glazed and unfocussed, but as the pain from his injuries hit, it cleared his head very quickly. Screwing his eyes shut against the assault, he moved his hand over his fractured ribs, hissing and panting for air to ease his tortured lungs. John touched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Easy, Trip, you're going to be ok, just try to relax." He looked at Phlox for reassurance that his friend **was** going to be ok. Phlox nodded and administered pain relief with a hypospray.

Trip seemed to relax a little, and when he opened his eyes again, they seemed more focussed. He found the worried face of Captain Archer looking down at him.

"Cap'n? What happen'd?"

He listened as John recounted the enemy attack and the explosion, but the captain didn't mention Kerry Hunter yet. As he talked, John watched his friend's face, and knew he was reliving the explosion. Suddenly Trip's eyes widened as he fully remembered.

"Doc, ya gotta get to Kerry. She was standin' in fronta me. She's likely to be badly hurt. Forget about me, help her." 

Phlox laid a hand on his patient's shoulder to gently restrain him. John sat down heavily on the chair beside Trip's bed. He knew his friend would take this badly.

"Trip, I'm sorry, but she's beyond help now. She took the full force of the explosion, and there was nothing anyone could do for her."

T'Pol spoke up. "The captain has recommended Ensign Hunter for a posthumous decoration of merit. Her death is regrettable, but an honourable one, in that she died saving the ship and her crew."

Trip gave the seemingly hard-hearted Vulcan a cold look. Deep down, he knew that she was trying to say the right thing, to help his pain, but it couldn't ease the feeling of guilt he had, that Kerry was dead, and he was alive. He was the Chief Engineer, it should have been him who reached the reactor first. Of course, if he had, he'd be dead, but that was just the order of things.

_  
_

CHAPTER THREE

Four days had elapsed since the explosion and Trip was getting cabin fever. He'd persuaded Phlox to release him to his own quarters two days ago, but he had to admit to himself that everything hurt too much. Phlox had insisted that he kept his right arm immobilised for 1 week to rest the stretched ligaments, and he still limped heavily as he favoured the injured hip.

He'd just about managed to stand throughout the memorial service for Kerry before her casket was jettisoned into space.

Now he lay on his bunk, exhausted. Phlox had given him strict instructions that he wasn't to leave his quarters unaided, at risk of dislocations!

"Give your body another few days, Commander, and you'll feel much better. You've always healed quickly in the past, and I'm sure this will be no exception."

John had called often, keeping him up to date with reports of the repairs, as had Anna Hess. He fretted over not being there personally to supervise them – that was **his** beloved engine, and he didn't totally trust anyone else to look after it the way he would.

JJJJJJJ

Five days after the explosion, Dr Phlox escorted him slowly and carefully to engineering, keeping a diligent eye on his patient's face. Phlox knew from previous experience with this particular human that the commander hid his pain when he wanted to expedite his return to duty. They rode the service elevator to the lower deck, avoiding the steps, and Trip took his first look at the devastation. He sighed with dismay at what he could see, and not even the cheers that greeted his arrival could lift his spirits. Lieutenant Hess hurried over to the two men.

"Hello Doctor, Commander, it's great to see you, sir."

Trip nodded his acknowledgement. "Thanks, Kate. What's the status on the repairs? Doesn't look like ya got too far?"

"We've patched up the reactor, but we lost most of the deuterium in the explosion. We're limping along on impulse, only, until the captain can find a source to replace our stock. Do you feel well enough to come back, sir? We could certainly use your expertise."

Trip's mouth opened to respond, but Phlox got his voice working first.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, but the commander is still recuperating, and he's certainly not ready to go clambering about in here."

Trip gave her a resigned '_see ya when I see ya_' look. "Keep me posted, Kate."

JJJJJJJ

Their next call took them to the captain's ready room, via the bridge. Trip smiled at the hearty welcome he got from the bridge crew, but as soon as he entered John's room, he slumped into a chair, exhausted. Phlox remained standing until invited to sit. John took in his friend's appearance and addressed Phlox.

"So, Doctor, how's the patient?"

"Very **impatient**, captain. I can understand it, what with the slow progress in engineering, but he needs to give his body more time."

"Wish ya'll wouldn't talk about me like I'm not here!" Trip muttered.

John grinned. Pointing to his computer screen, he indicated a planet. "We've found this planet on the Vulcan charts. It's rich in several minerals, including deuterium. At impulse, we'll take 6 days to get there, so in the meantime, commander, you're not to go anywhere near engineering. You've got 6 days of rest and physiotherapy, and then we'll see if you're fit for duty. Think you can manage that?"

Trip grinned for the first time in days. "Yeah, at least there's light at the end of the tunnel, an' it's not a train!"

  


CHAPTER FOUR

Repeat scans of the planet beneath them had shown rich supplies of deuterium concentrated in one site only. John had sent a greeting to the inhabitants and was surprised to find himself speaking to a grim-faced uniformed official.

"This is a penal colony, Captain Archer. We don't get many visitors here. Anyone travelling here is usually on a one-way ticket from one of our major cities. They're not the sort of people I'd encourage you and your crew to be mixing with."

"I appreciate your concern, Governor Venn, but we just about limped here, and without replacing our deuterium, we're going nowhere, fast. If your government agrees, we'd be most grateful for the supplies."

"I can only advise against it, captain. I wouldn't be able to guarantee the safety of your people."

LLLLLLL

Trip had used the 6 days travelling time to good advantage. He hated to be unfit and had pushed himself, probably too hard, in the gym. But at least he felt better. His shoulder was still stiff and he walked with a slight limp, and if he was really honest with himself, it still hurt to take a deep breath. But none of that would be shared with either the captain or the doctor.

"Trip, you don't need to be down there. You've got an excellent engineering team, let them show you what they can do," John reasoned, but Trip wasn't going to give up as easily as that.

"Cap'n, I need to be there, for my own sanity. I've been cooped up for too long, in sickbay and my quarters, an' I just need to **do** somethin'. Please…" He turned on the imploring puppy look he knew usually got him what he wanted.

John sighed in frustration. '_Trip and Porthos have definitely been spending too much time together._' He knew Trip's argument was flawed and he really wasn't fit enough for an away mission, but if he even just went in a supervisory capacity, he was still the best engineer around.

"Ok, but just tell your team what to do, don't go trying to prove you're Superman. And whether you like it or not, Malcolm's going to be your shadow. You're not fit to fight off a 5 year old, so 'can' the arguments!"

JJJJJJJ

Trip grinned at Malcolm as he entered the shuttle bay.

"So whadda I call ya, 'Malcolm Poppins'?"

Malcolm smirked at the comment. "With your propensity for getting into trouble, Commander, it's a small wonder the captain doesn't just lock you in the brig, for all our sakes. But, as you've talked him into letting you go, consider me your very own limpet. Where you go, I go. Somebody has to keep you from 'tripping' over your own feet."

"Oh bad, bad pun, Malcolm." Trip jostled his friend's shoulder. 

They clambered aboard the shuttlepod and Malcolm took the helm. Rostov, Kelly and several more engineering crewmen had already landed in the other shuttle. 3 security men, all impressively fitted out with phase pistols and rifles accompanied Malcolm and Trip.

"So, have you spoken to this Governor Venn, Malcolm?"

"Not personally. Naturally I overheard his discussion with the captain, and I have to say I didn't warm to him. He seemed cold and aloof, but maybe that's what you need to be in charge of a penal colony."

"Yeah, I suppose so. How exactly are we gonna get mining for deuterium with criminals hanging over our shoulders?"

"Governor Venn said the prisoners regularly mined in the quarry, anyway, and if your people set up near them, we can have whatever we extract. My people are here to keep you all from being confused for criminals. Of course, the captain had to pay a heavy price for the privilege. He was asked to give Venn something he valued, and I believe he traded an engineer…was it the chief?" 

Trip looked up suddenly, in time to see the satisfied smirk on Malcolm's face, as he knew he'd been suckered.

"Ha! Very good, Malcolm, but on a penal colony, I'd bet they'd rather have more security, maybe even a new tactical officer."

"Well, you can discuss that with the captain, we're about to land. The atmosphere's slightly thinner than we're used to, but if we take it easy, we should be ok. Don't push your team too hard, Commander."

  


CHAPTER FIVE

The drilling equipment had eventually been set up at the quarry and Trip was reading the scan data with a gleam in his eye. He flipped open his communicator when it chirped.

"Tucker."

"Trip, how's it going?" John asked.

"Good, Cap'n, everythin's goin' ok so far. The air's a bit thinner than I'd like so I'm rotatin' the crew every 2 hours."

"And what about you, you holding up?"

"I'm just fine, Cap'n, stop worryin'. With Malcolm Poppins at my heels, I'm more in danger of fallin' over him than anythin' else. We're getting' good yield for our efforts here, so we should be through in about 8 hours. By the way, just what did you have to give the Governor for the deuterium?"

John laughed as he replied. "A couple of your favourite protein resequencers. It seems their diet leaves a lot to be desired."

"Heck, at this rate, I'm gonna run outta those. Yet another planet introduced to the delights of 'Rocky Road'. Seems appropriate for here."

Malcolm surveyed the scene, wearing his customary frown. Although there had been no trouble from the prisoners, he felt uneasy. They were a morose, mean looking bunch of men, with what Malcolm thought were precious few guards. There were only a few warders dotted about the quarry, but when he gave it some thought, he realised that the prisoners had nowhere to go in a jailbreak. He looked again at the prisoners closest to them. All of them seemed underweight, their prison garb hanging loosely about their frames. Each man's eyes were sunk in their faces, exhaustion etched clearly. Malcolm had no sympathy for prisoners, but even the most hardened of criminals was entitled to basic humanitarian rights. Their guards kept them mining for long periods without rest, and although they would have been used to the thinner atmosphere, the toil was hard. 

A klaxon sounded, interrupting his reverie, and Malcolm noticed a meal break taking place. The prisoners were being allowed to gather together in clusters as food parcels were thrown from the back of a vehicle. Malcolm joined Trip as they sat to eat their own rations, and several of the prisoners sat near them.

"What tasks do you perform on your spaceship, humans?" the tallest man asked. Trip and Malcolm had already agreed to give little away about the ship.

"Just a bit of fixin' an' stuff, nothin' important," Trip replied for them both.

The prisoner, Ylin, seemed to lose interest in them, wolfing down the meagre rations voraciously, obviously not having enough to satisfy his hunger. Trip looked at him with sympathy.

"Here, fella, have mine, I've more than enough."

Ylin looked startled at the kindness, but took the proffered food quickly, half expecting it to be snatched back.

Rostov and Kelly sauntered across to Trip.

"So, Commander, have we gathered enough deuterium yet to make you happy?"

Trip winced inwardly at the accidental revelation of his rank. He looked sideways at Ylin, but the man appeared not to be paying any attention. _'Maybe we got away with that,' _he thought.

The meal finished without incident and the klaxon sounded to signal the resumption of labour. Ylin stood in front of Trip with his hand outstretched in the age-old sign of a handshake, and without thinking, Trip reached out to accept. The alien's wiry strength had been honed by the hard labour and Trip was still a little under par, so it took only a mighty tug from Ylin to jerk Trip roughly to his feet. The alien spun him round with his right arm twisted up behind his back, and Trip felt his phase pistol being removed from its holster. It had happened so quickly that Malcolm was caught flat-footed. Trip's instinctual reaction was to wrench away from Ylin, but he'd forgotten about his shoulder injury and cried out in agony as the shoulder dislocated.

LLLLLLL

Malcolm incongruously thought of a Mexican standoff as he took in the scene, but only for a fleeting moment. The situation was too grim for levity. Ylin had Trip's pistol rammed into the engineer's temple, and Trip was in no condition to offer any resistance. He sagged in Ylin's grip, and the man thought his hostage was trying to escape, causing him to grip harder and haul Trip upright. Trip clenched his teeth to stifle the scream, his eyes screwed tightly shut in pain. Malcolm had his own phase pistol drawn and was pointing it at Ylin.

"Let the commander go, he's injured," he cajoled.

Ylin looked down at the human in his grip and nodded. "I have watched him for some time. I saw that he walked more slowly, and did only supervisory work. Then the other called him 'Commander', as you have now done. A Commander from a starship, taken hostage, will get the attention of the authorities. I don't mean him any harm, but I need leverage to get to speak to them. They would refuse me, otherwise. Now drop your weapons, or I may have to injure him further."

Trip yelled, "Don't you dare, Malcolm," and gasped in pain as his pistol was rammed again into his temple.

Malcolm hated to do it, he felt naked without some sort of weapon, but he could see that Trip's position was precarious, and he couldn't risk any further injury to him. Signalling to the other crewmen to follow suit, he lowered his pistol to the ground. Ylin had gathered a small group of fellow prisoners who edged forward and retrieved the fallen weapons. Malcolm inwardly cursed at the absent guards too busy elsewhere to notice anything amiss, and realised that he couldn't risk calling out for them.

Ylin, Trip and the four men with him edged slowly backwards towards the food vehicle. The driver had been easily overpowered and Trip was thrown into the open rear of the vehicle. Ylin clambered in beside him before addressing Malcolm.

"Tell your captain and Governor Venn that I want to meet to discuss prison conditions. I won't wait long, human, and warn your captain that the temperature here at night drops to -15°. He might want to speed up negotiations." Ylin rapped on the roof of the truck and it moved away, taking Trip, leaving Malcolm and the landing party open-mouthed.

CHAPTER SIX

After Malcolm had delivered his bombshell, John had flown down to the surface, leaving T'Pol on the bridge. He'd picked up Malcolm, ordered the rest of the landing party to pack up the mining equipment, and travelled on to meet with Governor Venn.

"You'll excuse my saying 'I told you so', but…well, these men will stop at nothing to try to escape. Your engineer's life is in great danger."

Malcolm spoke up. "Captain, Ylin said quite clearly that he wanted to discuss prison conditions, he made no reference to escaping."

Archer looked at the governor.

"Captain Archer, every man in this penal colony has committed a serious felony. This isn't a holiday camp. My government sent them here because it abolished the death penalty they would otherwise have been sentenced to. They are treated as fairly as their crimes dictate."

"From what Lieutenant Reed has told me, they're obviously under-nourished and poorly clad. A few basic improvements might help quell resentments. I don't condone what these men did to deserve their punishment, but surely even these men deserve some simple considerations?" John spoke somewhat heatedly, and Venn's face flushed with anger.

"What gives you the right to come here and tell me how to run my prison? I regret the abduction of your engineer, but you came here against my advice. There can be no negotiations with the prisoners.

LLLLLLL

John and Malcolm sat in the shuttle, despondent at the turn of events. T'Pol was speaking on the intercom.

"At your request I contacted First Citizen Jonas. He has agreed to meet with you to discuss the situation. The capital city is Xenos, in the southern hemisphere. I have downloaded the co-ordinates to the shuttle. Good luck, Captain."

Malcolm lifted the 'pod into the atmosphere as John looked out into the cold night air, desperately worried for his friend.

"We'll be back soon, Trip," he whispered.

Their journey took 15 minutes and Jonas was waiting for them. He led them into a comfortable room and sat to listen to the off-worlders' story. He heard them without interruption until John stopped.

"I haven't met Governor Venn personally, but I'm pretty sure the task of running a penal colony is an onerous one. As he explained, our government did away with the death penalty, feeling a life taken should be replaced by a life sentenced to hard labour. Nearly all of the men in that prison will have committed murder, and I suppose few of us have given any thought to their conditions. However, I can see that too harsh a regime would eventually lead to revolt. I'm sorry that you and your crew have been caught in the middle. I will certainly review the prison administration, but Governor Venn was quite right when he said there wouldn't be any negotiations. He is in charge, rightly or wrongly, and to go behind him would undermine his authority there. That would only lead to complete anarchy. You must attempt to secure the release of your officer, yourself. Assure the prisoners that a full enquiry into conditions will take place, but only if they release Commander Tucker."

LLLLLLL

Trip's away missions were becoming something of a lottery on Enterprise. It was rare that he returned from an alien planet or ship uninjured, mugged, prey to alien mind-altering spores, frozen, baked, pregnant…

It was certainly taking its toll, physically. His shoulder ached fiercely and his entire arm had 'pins and needles' coursing through it. He could hardly bear to move as even the tiniest shuffle sent spasms into his neck and shoulder. And to make matters worse, the temperature was dropping rapidly, causing him to shiver incessantly. At first it was just cold, then it gradually became bone-numbingly cold, and that's when the violent shivers had started. He couldn't control them and his head felt dizzy with pain every time he jumped and jerked. 

He looked around apathetically at the cave they were in. The walls were damp, the floor was damp, his jumpsuit was damp and his mood was definitely damp. 

Ylin had marched him in at gunpoint and made him sit on the floor. Now, he looked at his captive's pained face. "I'm sorry you got hurt, that was never my intention. I simply needed to do something to get the attention of the authorities. Take my belt, it'll give some support and ease the strain on your shoulder."

Ylin removed the belt from his prison tunic. Tying one end to Trip's wrist, he gently passed the other up and around the commander's neck, slowly bringing the two ends towards each other. Trip groaned as his injured arm was gradually bent at right angles, until it ended with his hand across his chest. The process had been sheer agony, but he knew it would help, eventually.

"Thanks," he gasped.

One of Ylin's men had found some dry kindling and started a small fire. It gave a cheery glow to the inside of the cave, but the night was too cold for it to make any real difference to the temperature. Ylin was still squatting in front of him.

"Your captain is taking too long. If you have to remain here overnight, you might not survive."

Trip's eyes were heavy with fatigue, and he longed to be comfortable again, to lie down without pain. Ylin had hauled him over against the wall for support and he'd nearly passed out at the time.

"You could always just let me go," he tried, without much hope. Ylin merely shook his head, settling beside the human.

"So, what did you do, Ylin?"

"I murdered my unfaithful wife and her lover."

"Oh, well actually, I meant before that…you know, a job?"

Ylin seemed lost in thought for a while and Trip reasoned that the man wasn't going to answer, but eventually, Ylin stirred from his reverie.

"I was a scientist, a respected Government employee. I held a position of responsibility and seniority, and with it went great stress. I realise, in retrospect that I was close to a nervous breakdown, but on that day, when I came home early because I felt ill…I lost all reason when I saw them together. Afterwards, as I looked at my beautiful wife, I very nearly took my own life, too, but I was too much of a coward. I was disgusted at what I'd done, so I turned myself in. My sentence is just and deserved, but this prison is worse than a death sentence…it's killing everybody, and not slowly, either. Ten men have died of malnutrition in the past month. Every time I asked to speak with Governor Venn, he refused. Your unexpected visit to the mines was just too good an opportunity to pass up. At least, now, someone will have to talk to me, and I've got plenty to say.

  


CHAPTER SEVEN

"I'm sorry to have to report that the transporter is still offline, Captain. I can give you Commander Tucker's co-ordinates, but you will have to take the shuttle to him," T'Pol reported from the bridge.

"Understood, T'Pol. Just send those co-ordinates."

"Affirmative, Captain, transmitting now."

John took the shuttle back to the northern hemisphere, adjusting the heading to the new co-ordinates. It was pitch black outside and -10°C when the 'pod settled onto the uneven ground near the caves.

"Ok, Malcolm, I'm going in alone. I don't want these men any more agitated than they already are. They've probably already heard the shuttle landing and are as jumpy as kittens. You stay put, and if things don't work out, get back to the ship and report to T'Pol."

"Aye, sir, good luck and be careful."

John shivered as he stepped out of the shuttle and the vicious cold hit him. He made no attempt to hide his approach to the cave, instead calling out as he walked, shining his torch ahead of him.

"I'm Captain Jonathon Archer. I'd like to speak to whoever's in charge."

Two figures peered out cautiously and watched the starship captain approaching alone. They moved out to meet him, searched him for weapons, and ushered him inside the cave. John shivered violently in the bitter cold, anxiously looking for his friend. A tall man stood up from the small fire and walked towards him, holding Trip's phase pistol.

"I'm Ylin, Captain. I'm glad to finally meet you. Please sit, it's a cold night."

John had been looking around him, but couldn't see any sign of Trip.

"I'd like to see Commander Tucker before we go any further."

Ylin nodded and lead him further into the cave. In the faint glow of a second small fire, John could just make out the slumped figure lying against the wall.

"Trip? Hey, buddy, can you hear me?" John crouched in front of his friend, afraid to touch him in case he hurt him. When he got no answer, he looked up at Ylin. "How long's he been unresponsive?"

"About 30 minutes. We tried to keep him awake, but the cold was too much for him. I didn't mean to injure him. He told me he'd recently been hurt and that his shoulder was still a bit weak. I only wanted to get someone's attention."

John took in the strap supporting Trip's arm, and some of the fury inside him abated.

"I've already spoken to Jonas. He has promised to review the prison regime, but first you have to release Commander Tucker."

"If I release him, my men and I will be easy targets for the guards. Governor Venn will order them to take us by force, and lives may be lost. I can't be responsible for any of my men dying. So you see, Captain, the commander has to stay."

"Look, you said you wanted to talk, so why don't you and your men come back with me to my shuttle and we can talk in the comfort of Enterprise? You don't look like you're enjoying the cold much, either."

Ylin pondered the offer. "What guarantee would I have that you wouldn't simply overpower us and hand us over to the authorities, once you had your man back?"

"Well, for a start, you can keep the phase pistols. I'm serious about trying to help, but if we stay here, my friend will die, and I can't see that helping your cause much, can you?" John subconsciously held his breath as Ylin stood in thought; he really needed to get Trip to sickbay.

"Very well, Captain, I'll agree to your request, but I have one of my own, too. Bring Jonas and Governor Venn to your ship as well. That way, I'll have a captive audience."

John nodded readily; it was a good plan. Gently, he scooped his friend up in his arms and the party made their way towards the shuttle. 

Malcolm had been staring out through the window, concerned for the captain and Commander Tucker. Now, he watched in amazement as Captain Archer approached, carrying what could only be the commander, and accompanied by the prisoners. He hurried to open the hatch, phase pistol in his hand.

"Stand down, Lieutenant, these men are my guests, so let's not go shooting anybody."

John allowed the startled lieutenant to help him in with Trip's unconscious form. They made him as comfortable as possible on one of the benches, whilst Ylin and his men settled around the shuttle. Malcolm closed the hatch and moved to start the engines. John had fished out thermal blankets, and after draping one over the commander, he offered the others to the prisoners. The men were surprised by the gesture, so unaccustomed were they to any kindness. John made his way to the co-pilot's seat and hailed the ship.

"We're lifting off, now, T'Pol, be with you in about 5 minutes. Have Dr. Phlox meet us in the launch bay, we've a medical emergency…oh, and we're bringing a few guests back, too."

  


CHAPTER EIGHT

John had wanted to go straight to sickbay with Trip, but he knew he had to see to Ylin and his men. He personally escorted them to the mess hall, where they devoured the feast set before them. After they'd eaten their fill, John invited them to accompany him to sickbay.

"Our doctor will give you all a check-up. Apart from malnutrition, you may well have some medical complaints that he can help with. And I'm anxious to check on Commander Tucker."

Phlox looked up as the sickbay doors opened.

"Ah, Captain, your timing is excellent. Commander Tucker has just awakened."

John walked over to the biobed and looked down at the drowsy figure.

"I'm thinking of changing your nickname to "Jinx", pal." He smiled in relief at seeing his friend recovering.

Trip struggled to keep his eyes open, and managed to focus on John's face. "Hey, Cap'n, what's been happenin'?"

"Well, once again you've tested the resources of this medical facility, and I've brought Ylin and his men on board."

At the mention of his name, Ylin moved forward to look down at the injured engineer.

"I'm pleased to see you awake, again, Commander. I'm truly sorry for your pain."

"It's ok, I'm just kinda glad to **be** awake again. So what happens now?"

John spoke again. "I've sent T'Pol to bring First Citizen Jonas and Governor Venn up, and we're going to see what can be done about conditions for the prisoners." 

He turned to Phlox. "How is he, Doctor?"

"I've reset his dislocated shoulder and strapped it to his chest for good measure. We don't want it popping out again, do we? He was suffering quite a degree of hypothermia, and we know the commander doesn't cope well with extremes of temperature, so I'm warming him up slowly. All in all, he'll be fine."

"Back to talking about me like I'm invisible," Trip muttered.

John just laughed. "Get plenty of rest, Commander, that's an order. You're off duty until further notice. Now Doctor, would you mind giving our guests the once-over? Things are pretty bleak on the planet surface and I'd appreciate a medical report. It might help get something done for these men."

JJJJJJJ

Jonas was being given the VIP tour of the ship whilst Governor Venn was in John's ready room, a very angry man. John understood the man's anger, and knew it to be largely defensive.

"Captain, you've recovered your officer, now you should retreat and keep your nose out of matters that don't concern you. These prisoners don't deserve to be mollycoddled, as I've already told you.

Return us all to the planet and be on your way!" His face had taken on a very unhealthy redness.

"The only way I could secure my officer's release was to offer to act as mediator, Governor, so you might as well calm down and take an active part in the proceedings. Jonas and Ylin will be with us very soon."

Venn continued to pace about, and John made a mental note to explain the wear in the carpet to Starfleet. He sighed. He'd never thought that being a starship captain would involve so much pussyfooting around. It was nearly two parts diplomat to one part captain. 

He was glad of the distraction when the doorbell chimed. Rising to open it, he allowed T'Pol and Jonas to enter. No sooner had they all settled, than the door chimed a second time, this time admitting the doctor. When everyone was seated, John addressed Jonas.

"So, First Citizen, what do you think of Enterprise?"

"A truly impressive vessel, captain. You are most fortunate to be able to travel across the galaxies in such style. Our space technology is in its infancy in comparison. But, I'm not here to discuss warp drive technology, am I?"

"No sir, you're not. Doctor, do you have that report for me?"

Phlox spoke in his customary hearty style. "Indeed I do, Captain, and very interesting reading it makes, too! I've just finished those tests you requested on our five friends. They are being escorted here as we speak. I wanted a chance to talk to you before they got here. Each man is severely malnourished, but it doesn't require a medical degree to spot that. What else they are suffering showed up in their blood-work. They all show a marked degree of iron deficiency and chronic anaemia. The anaemia, coupled with the planet's reduced oxygen levels means that their bodies are unable to fight off infections and fatigue. They don't appear to get enough rest, either at night or during the day. Rest periods are the norm in other penal colonies of my acquaintance. Citizen Jonas, your government may well have abolished the death penalty, a decision I applaud, but this regime is simply another form of it. Unless you make radical changes, you will continue to slowly kill all of your prisoners!"

LLLLLLL

Trip had been frustrated that Phlox hadn't released him from sickbay. He had desperately wanted to put his two cents' worth into the pot. But, on reflection, he knew he wasn't nearly fit enough, and diplomacy and tact had never been his strong suit. He had to trust the captain to make a difference to these people's lives.

So, for now he rested in sickbay, stiff and sore, but at least he was warm again. _'Boy, how I hate bein' cold, almost as much as bein' cooked!'_

He looked up as he heard the sickbay doors open, and watched the faces of the captain and doctor as they walked towards him. Both wore their poker faces, and Trip **had** to know how things had gone.

"So what happened, Cap'n? Are they gonna be ok?"

John looked from his friend to the doctor. "So you tell me he'll be fine, just needs to keep his arm immobilised for a week or so? That means no engineering, and **definitely** no away missions."

"Quite right, Captain. I've noticed from first hand experience that he can be volatile and impulsive. I recommend 10 days sick leave before he resumes his duties."

"I'll give ya 'volatile an' impulsive' if ya don't quit ignorin' me! Cap'n, please, put me outta my misery here. HOW DID IT GO?"

John relented with the first genuinely relaxed laugh in days. "It went very well, actually. Governor Venn is going to be replaced, a doctor and nutritionist are to be appointed to the prison, and Ylin and his men have already voluntarily returned to the prison. It seems they really did only want better conditions, after all. He wasn't a bad chap, when you took time to talk to him. It's such a waste…"

"Yeah, it was a crime of passion, you know. A real tragic waste…Anyway, well done on the result, Cap'n."

"This is the man you have to thank and congratulate. The doctor's report on the prisoners was all it took to change Jonas's mind."

Trip regarded the Denobulan in a new light.

John spoke again. "Now, Commander, with regard to you obeying orders…the next time I say that you aren't fit to go on an away mission and you give me one of those puppy dog looks, I'll throw you and Porthos in the brig for a week. And there'll be NO CHEESE!"

END


End file.
